


TreasureFacers

by Papa_Lazarou



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, More characters to be added at later updates, National Treasure au, Treasure Hunting, episode fic, thats if they dont die in the process, the boys go on a hunt, they go all over the world, visiting every continent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23874283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papa_Lazarou/pseuds/Papa_Lazarou
Summary: Sam finds a note when he is archiving the bunker’s library. It is written for Dean, the eldest son. The boys enlist help to hunt down the treasure, a hunt that will take them all over the world and back. Help from witches and angels and hunters. But the treasure is not what they think it will be, if they even make it that far.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Kudos: 1





	TreasureFacers

Tedious, that was a word Sam would use for the job he was doing. Tedious and dull, updating the information from the books in the bunker onto his laptop so they would have the information with them where they may go.A lot of the information they knew already, and even more was completely incorrect. They had no idea how to kill an angel, especially when they had never met one.

Sam put back _Dicing with Demons_ and picked up the next one _Do You Know God?_ He sighs knowing most of this information in this book would also be incorrect or at least obsolete, what with Chuck out of the picture.

As he picks the book up off the shelve a discoloured piece of parchment falls out from it. It was dogeared and if it was for being protected in the book, Sam knew that it would have disintegrated. He picks it up and gingerly opens it, who knows if a curse was attached, the Men of Letters had done worse things, with more innocuous objectsbefore.

But there wasn’t a curse attached.

It was a normal, innocent piece of parchment, with writing on.

_On the eve of the brightest summer’s day,_

_After the moon turns blood red in the sky,_

_My eldest child will seek the treasure that is to lay._

_-M. Winchester, Jr_

Sam has to read it a few times before working out what it actually said, the ceasing and scribbled handwriting making it almost indistinguishable.

Sam stares at the name scrawled along the bottom for a few minutes. M. Winchester Jr. John had never spoken about a grandfather before to Sam and Dean, but Sam still knew it was their great-grandfather.

And the eldest child must be Dean.

Sam, having forgotten about the book on the table, went to find Dean.

“ _Don’t want to close my eyes; I don’t want to fall asleep; ‘Cause I miss you baby-_ “ Dean sings as he changes the oil on the car.

Sam steps into the garage and coughs loudly, not hearing the music coming from Dean’s headphones.

“ _-And I don’t want to miss a thing; cause even when I dream of you-_ “

Sam steps over to Dean and drags his out from under the car, by his ankle. Dean takes off his headphones, his music, now muffled, filling the air around them.

“What is it Sammy? I have the oil out of her and need to refill her before we can go on a hunt.”

“No, no hunt. I was updating our internet information, and this fell out of a book. I think its for you.” Sam said, handing over the parchment.

Dean wiped his hands on an oil-stained towel, smearing the oil over his hands, before taking the letter. He read it twice through and frowned.

“Awesome. Treasure. Let’s go hunting. I hope it’s lots of gold bars and rubies and diamonds.” Dean beamed, looking like a child who was told they are heading to Disneyland.

“Dean we don’t know anything this. There’s no clue and we don’t know who M. Winchester is.” Sam frowned.

“Ever the skeptic. Probably Dad’s dad.” Dean shrugged, turning the parchment over in his hands, carefully.

“He was Henry, remember?”

“I don’t know, his dad then. But it must mean me. It’s a proper prophecy as well, it rhymes.”

Dean headed back out of the garage and to the study.

“Where did you find it, Sam? Maybe there’s more information there.”

Sam hadn’t thought about that. “In a book. _Do You Know God?_ Or something like that. Something irrelevant.”

Dean nods and picks it up from where it laid on the table. He turned it upside down and shook it carefully, but no papers fell out. He flicked through it, but no papers fell out. It was a plain, ordinary book.

“Maybe its enchanted?” Dean suggested, in defeat.

“No, I checked theres no magic on the book or the paper.” Sam explained.

“I’ll call Cas, he might know what is happening.”

Dean pulled his phone out and texted Cas. Before he could even put his phone back away in his pocket, Cas appeared before them, at the other side of the table.

“I was rebuilding Heaven, I hope it’s important.”

“We’re hunting for treasure, and we thought that maybe you could help us?” Dean asked.

“I’m busy, Dean. You know how important Heaven is, and it needs all the angel grace it can get.”

“I know, Cas but we need your help. We got a letter from our great-grandfather, or someone and we thought you could shed some light on it.” Dean said, as he handed Cas the letter.

“Ah, Matthew Winchester Junior, he actually knew about angels. We helped him out a couple of times, wanted information usually. It was usually Balthazar and myself he would call upon, asking how heaven worked the pearly white gates. If this is treasure hunt is him, I don’t believe it to be real. He was a researcher, not a hunter. I never even saw him out of this bunker. But he died with Influenza in 1920.” Cas explained, before disappearing back to heaven, again.

Dean shook his head. “I don’t believe Cas. Why would anyone write this as a joke?”

He picked up the book again and sat down with it, starting to look through the pages for anything unbenign.

As Dean looked through the books, Sam studied the paper, Dean wasn’t going to drop this, so he might as well help. After a few hours, Sam exclaimed in joy.

“Of course, its so simple. This parchment is way too big for three lines of writing. And parchment always came in rolls you could tear off when finished. So there must be something else on here.” Sam explained.

“Something, non-magical, so it must be invisible, the normal way.” Dean frowned.

“UV. UV light, shows invisible things. Do we have one anywhere?”

Dean nodded, “In the storeroom.”

Dean grabbed his beer and headed for the storeroom. He found the long strip of light at the back of a shelf behind an embalmed monkey’s head in a jar. He checked it worked, before going back to Sam and turning off the lights in the war room, and closing the door. He shone the UV light over the parchment and ten numbers appeared in a column.

19; 32; 39; 41; 54; 63; 77; 83; 84; 86

Sam, scribbled them down on another piece of paper, before getting up and turning the lights back on.

“There’s nothing connecting the numbers, is there, Sam”

“No, some are even, some are odd. There no equation that I can see connecting them. There’s not in groups, so it’s not Bible verses.”

“They are in order though. 19 is smaller than 32. Could it be years? 1919, 1932, 1939?” Dean asked.

Sam shakes his head. “No, nothing connects all those years, no leaders or wars or hunts. Plus, like Cas said, he died in 1920. How would he knows what happened in 1986 when he died 66 years earlier?”

Dean just nodded, and sat in thought, what could possibly link all those numbers? Cas came down a few hours later, disdain on his face, when he saw they were both still working on the cryptic clue.

“Humans like to joke, correct?” Cas asked, starling both Winchesters from their thoughts.

“Sometimes.” Dean frowned, not sure what Cas was getting at.

“Then this is a joke.”

“It’s not Cas, we found some numbers under the paragraph.” Sam explained.

“Yeah, 19, 32, 39, 41, 54, 63, 77, 83, 84, 86.” Dean added.

Cas thought for a moment. “They’re page numbers. Possibly a short book, about one hundred pages, or so. Did you not realise?”

“The book. It has 98 pages to it. That could work.”

Dean grabbed the book off the table and turned it to page 19. He read it, and ran his fingers over it, but still couldn’t find anyway conspicuous.

“What’s the first word Dean?” Sam asked.

“Atrocity. The next is God. Angel. Gate. Heaven. It. Be. I. Never. The.” Dean listed off.

“That doesn’t make sense, and its too long for an anagram.” Sam sighed.

“Wait. Pass me the UV light. Cas, turn off the lights, please.”

Sam handed Dean the torch and Cas turned off the light. Dean shone the UV light over the first page, and stopped when he found a little handwritten mark on the top left hand corner.

“There’s something there. It’s like a ‘H’ with a slanted cross line.” Dean frowned.

Sam peered over his shoulder. “Is Nordic, I think. But I don’t know what it means.” But still he wrote it next to the first number. “What’s the next?”

A few minutes later and they had all ten symbols written out before them.

** ᚺᛟᚢᚷᛟᚢᛗᛟᚾᛏ **

Cas took one look at it and sighed.

“It says Hougoumont.”


End file.
